Saturday, August 28, 2010

Philosophy of (No) Religion

I had the opportunity this afternoon to meet the students that I will be teaching in the spring. It was an awkward meeting; I, along with a grad student in English, will be team-teaching two separate sections of students this year. One section has been set aside for students in the University Honors Program, and the other section is just "regular", although I always have one or two students in the "regular" classes who could easily do honors-level work.

The third member of the teaching team comes from the School of Philosophy, and since the Honors Program philosophy track follows a different sequence, I'll be working with two different philosophy instructors. The "regular" section will be taught by a grad student in philosophy, but the honors section will be taught by a member of the philosophy faculty, Fr. James Brent.

Fr. Brent had the students fill out information cards, and one of the bits of information he requested was "religious affiliation." This datum, he said, was optional; students could leave it blank if they so chose. Then he made an interesting statement: the belief that religious affiliation is optional is itself a philosophical position that demands examination and proof.

I don't know why I'd never thought of this before. I've had courses in Philosophy of Religion, and I've always regarded atheism as a religion in its own right, or at least as a philosophical commitment to a denial of the existence of God. But Fr. Brent is correct: to regard religious affiliation as "optional" says a lot about the value (or lack thereof) and significance of religion in the first place.

To give credit where credit is due, Fr. Brent cited "A Secular Age" by the modern philosopher Charles Taylor as the source of his statement. It's been a long time since I read a philosophy book, but this one looks good, so I'll be adding it to my reading list. I'm just not sure when I'll get to it...

Friday, August 27, 2010

Off and limping!

The fall semester officially kicks off Monday, but freshman orientation began today, so I'm now on the clock. This morning I met my 35 (!) "exploratory" (= undeclared) advisees, and I expect a handful of them to trickle in to the office an in hour or so to make some last minute schedule changes.

I haven't had the most auspicious first week. On Sunday morning, I was stretching my legs in bed. I flexed my foot, and something in my ankle popped. By the time church was over, I couldn't put any weight on it and was in a lot of pain.

There's never a "good" time to be injured, but the timing of this injury is especially difficult, because I've had a faculty meeting/workshop every day this week, and all of them are mandatory. Taking Metro to school while on crutches is almost impossible--the campus is built on a hill, the train station is at the bottom of the hill, and most of the buildings I haunt are a good 5-10 minute walk when I'm unimpaired. My husband had to arrange to work from home this week and play chaffeur, for which I am thankful.

As bad as the timing was, the experience has actually been uplifting. I've been reminded of how much I love my school family. We have such a great spirit of community here--I haven't had to beg for help when I've needed it, as I might at another school. In fact, I haven't even had to ask for help, because every time I've turned around, someone has been there to say, "stay put and I'll take care of [x]." And the beauty of it is that it goes beyond just my circle of friends and colleagues; the meetings on Monday and Tuesday (the worst two days) involved many unfamiliar faces.

I find it embarrassing to be the center of attention, and I hate to be a burden to others, but I think I needed the reminder not to automatically assume that everyone I meet is a self-absorbed, impatient and uncaring (can I say it?) bastard. Many people in DC act in those ways, but CUA is an oasis, and I'm so glad I'm here.